Locked Inside

by Charlotte Perkins Gilman

　　She beats upon her bolted door, With faint weak hands; Drearily walks the narrow floor; Sullenly sits, blank walls before; Despairing stands. Life calls her, Duty, Pleasure, Gain— Her dreams respond; But the blank daylights wax and wane, Dull peace, sharp agony, slow pain— No hope beyond. [4] Till she comes a thought! She lifts her head, The world grows wide! A voice—as if clear words were said— “Your door, O long imprisonéd, Is locked inside!”